PEOPLE say: "You're as young as you feel" and older people often say they feel no more than 16. I now know why they say that - because despite being in my early forties, I too feel the same as I did when still at school (the sixth form, I hasten to add - I think I have definitely moved on mentally from those stroppy teenage years, although my husband may disagree).

But there are times when things happen that really make me feel my age and that firmly ram home the hideous fact that I will never again be a bright young thing leading a fun-filled, devil-may-care life.

These events take place periodically, like when I pass a shop window and spot a middle-aged woman reflected in it. But in the past week, just about everything I have done has left me feeling middle-aged and I have finally had to admit to myself that I am no spring chicken. The following events made me realise that I really am growing old.

Watching Big Brother

I found it quite depressing to watch housemates in their mid and late twenties talking about another housemate aged 20 as being "too young and too loud".

There I was thinking how they were ALL too young and too loud. Though I pride myself on getting on with most people I could not help but think how, at 42, I would never fit in at the Big Brother House. From what I've seen I have absolutely nil in common with any of the inhabitants. I don't smoke, I don't wear jeans with a waist two inches above the crotch and, above all, I'm ready for bed at 11pm (and I'd want a single room).

Not watching

Top Of The Pops

On Friday night I telephoned a (younger) friend who ticked me off for having interrupted her as she watched Justin Timberlake on Top Of The Pops. "Who?" I asked. She was more than a little shocked that I hadn't heard of him. I then asked: "Isn't Top Of The Pops on a Thursday?" to which she laughed raucously. "When DID you last watch it?" she said rather cuttingly.

Receiving two brochures through the post

One, going by the title Foot Friendly, was a shoe catalogue that placed emphasis on wide fittings and easy fastenings. It was rife with words such as 'elasticated', 'stretchable' and 'comfy'. The other, entitled Healthy Living, contained more of the same, only for the entire body.

It advertised special cushions "that enable you to sit comfortably for long periods" and battery-operated denture cleaners. Of course, there's nothing wrong with brochures like these, in the right sheltered housing environment. But why me? And even more alarming was the fact that I was genuinely interested in the products and genuinely believed that they would benefit me.

The arrival of the fair

Had me panicking as, on certain rides, my children will need an adult chaperone and, whereas in the past I was only interested in going higher and faster, I'm no longer up to it.

You see, everything points to middle-age. Now I'm waiting for the final nail in the coffin - the invitation to subscribe to Saga magazine.

Updated: 10:47 Monday, June 02, 2003